


Trapped

by fredbassett



Series: Stephen/Ryan series [73]
Category: Primeval
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 01:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/pseuds/fredbassett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes things don't go according to plan on a caving trip</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trapped

“Careful, James.” The note of concern in Lyle’s voice was unmistakeable. “I don’t like the look of that section of roof.”

Neither did Lester, and he was lying underneath it. Just as the words left Lyle’s mouth, a shower of small stones hit Lester on the cheek. He twisted onto his side in the narrow rift, taking his weight on his elbow and doing his best to wriggle backwards whilst letting his helmet shield his head from the worst of the fall.

They’d set an explosive charge in the narrow passage the previous weekend and this had been their first opportunity for a week to get back into the cave and see how much progress they’d made. They had been working at this particular spot for several months now, making slow but definite progress along a narrow rift in the hope of breaking out into bigger passage. The strength of the draught was an indicator of better things to come, but the cave was determined not to give up its secrets without a fight.

The patter of stones stopped. Lester gave another push with his elbow. Only another couple of metres to go and he’d be back with Lyle in the small chamber at the start of the dig. Once there, they’d have a poke at the roof of the passage with a long crowbar, hopefully bringing down a few more loose rocks and then clear away the debris before setting another bang.

A sudden rumbling above him followed by the sound of rock scraping against rock sent a sharp spike of adrenaline through Lester’s body. He didn’t need Lyle’s shout of alarm to tell him that something distinctly unhealthy was happening above him. The sharp smell of broken rock filled his nostrils at the same moment as something jammed his arm into the small crevice at the bottom of the rift.

Lester tugged. His arm remained jammed, pinned in place by a rock that had slid down from the rift above and come to rest on his forearm, driving his elbow down into the crack and wedging it firmly in place. Panic rose up and he had to fight against the urge to struggle.

“James!” Lyle had gone from mild concern to full-blown anxiety in the space of a few heartbeats.

“I’m OK,” Lester lied through gritted teeth. He wasn’t in any pain, but he was well and truly stuck. He fought to regain control and assess his situation.

“No, you’re bloody well not!”

“Get the long wrecking bar,” he said as calmly as he could. “My elbow’s jammed into the crack and you’re going to need to get the bar past me to leaver up the boulder that’s stopping me getting out of here.”

“Can you feel your fingers?”

“Yes.” He didn’t think anything was broken and apart from lying in an awkward position with one arm trapped, he wasn’t actually in any pain, although unwanted memories of the climber who had resorted to cutting off his own arm with a penknife naturally chose that exact moment to surface. “I’m not in any pain. I don’t think anything is broken. We just need to shift this fucking rock.”

“I’ll get the bar.”

Lester drew in a long breath, held it for the count of three and then exhaled slowly. He could smell mud and broken rock, but the air drafting towards him was still fresh, all the fumes from the last bang they’d set had well and truly dissipated and he had no need to worry about a build up of CO2 in the passage. The main problem was that he was lying in a pool of water that would soon soak through his caving suit and start to chill him to the bone.

“Talk to me, James!” Lyle’s voice was sharp with worry and the continued use of Lester’s first name was a sign of how concerned he was.

“I’m fine, Jon,” he said quickly. Almost immediately, he realised he’d fallen into the same trap and revealed that he was actually anything but fine.

“Yeah, right.” The sound of metal clinking against rock told him that Lyle was now manoeuvring into position the long bar they used for poking boulders.

“I’m fine, bunnikins,” he said firmly. It was the best he could come up with in the circumstances but it would just have to do.

“Like I just said, yeah, right, I believe you, thousands wouldn’t. Can you use your other arm to direct the bar? I don’t want to end up poking your bloody eyes out.”

“I’ll try, and trust me, I’ll yell if it gets close to my face. Can’t have you ruining my rakish good looks.”

“Might improve ‘em,” Lyle commented. “OK, yell if this gets too close for comfort.”

Getting the end of the bar into position was awkward and for several long minutes Lester thought their attempts were doomed to failure and that he’d end up having to wait for a bigger and more organised rescue attempt. Something he’d never live down if his brother Ralph got to hear of it, which inevitably he would. But finally, their combined effort managed to succeed in jamming the bar into position under the rock without driving it into Lester’s arm in the process.

“OK, it’s there. Just take it steady, we don’t want to bring anything else down in the process.” Maintaining a façade of calm wasn’t the easiest thing he’d ever done, but he knew perfectly well that panicking would only make matters worse. He needed to be ready to move the instant he felt the pressure on his arm lift.

Lester could feel his heart hammering in his chest and his sound of his own breathing was unnaturally loud in the small passage. Lyle started to wiggle the bar under the boulder, trying to inch it upwards and Lester realised he was holding his breath. At first nothing seemed to be happening, then something shifted, the bar skidded forward by a few inches and Lyle swore loudly. A moment later, the rock moved.

“It’s moving, Jon!” Lester tensed his muscles, ready to start wriggling the instant he could drag his arm free. It wasn’t there yet, but he definitely had slightly more freedom of movement than he’d had a second ago.

He heard Lyle grunt with the effort of pushing against the steel bar then the rock moved again and for a sickening moment Lester thought that it had dropped down onto his hand, but then the pressure was off and he was able to jerk his arm out of the crevice and start to slither backwards as a second adrenaline rush flooded his system and lent him strength.

Lyle kept the bar in place taking the strain until Lester was well clear of the rock that had been causing all the trouble then he hauled it out of place and gave Lester room to manoeuvre. Moments later he was lying on his back in the chamber, his head clear of the start of the crevice, gasping like a stranded fish.

Strong fingers twined with his and hauled him upright. Warm lips sought his mouth and Lester found himself enveloped in a fierce hug. When they finally drew apart, Lyle murmured, “Don’t ever fucking scare me like that again, James!”

Lester kissed him lightly on the lips. “I’ll do my very best, darling. I’d never bloody live it down if I ended up as a rescue statistic.”

“No chance of that, petal,” Lyle said cheerfully. “I had a back-up plan of just bringing the whole bloody roof down, leaving you there and claiming you’d run off with the plumber.”

Lester grinned. “Always good to know you had a plan, angel paws.”

Lyle raised one muddy eyebrow. “Angel paws?”

Lester knew perfectly well his grin had just slid into a smirk. It very much looked like this was one contest Lyle was quite content to lose.


End file.
